


Performance Anxiety

by Atroppa



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Masturbation, Pool scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:31:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atroppa/pseuds/Atroppa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moriarty doesn't just stop at manipulating John Watson's voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Performance Anxiety

_Now, then, Johnny boy, let's have a bit of fun. I wonder how good your acting skills are,_ Moriarty whispers into his ear. There's a brief moment of silence, then he laughs. _Oh, yes, I know what you'll do. I want you to fake an orgasm._

John jerks involuntarily, and Sherlock shoots him a look of pure concern. "No," John says, which is completely off-script, but he doesn't care. Moriarty's _really_ taking this too far. It's undignified and humiliating and all sorts of wrong. But then he remembers the press of the semtex against his chest, and Moriarty speaks again:

 _It's fairly unwi-ise to resist, you know. Just think about what you usually think about. Oh, don't even pretend you haven't **rubbed one off** thinking about him. Let him hear what it would sound like if he finally got his act together and invited you into his bed. All that pale, creamy skin, those pink lips, o-o-o-ohh, I bet he'd blush all over. He's a fairly pretty boy, isn't he, our Sherlock? And let's not even mention that **voice**!_

Belatedly, John realizes his cheeks are burning. He has thought about it, and he thinks Sherlock can probably read the shame pouring off every molecule in his body, even if he doesn't know what Moriarty's saying. But when John does a quick calculation, it's nowhere near equal: a minute or two of the most painful and public humiliation possible (an audience of snipers, a criminal mastermind, and a man John didn't know he could possibly care about this much), or an entire city block leveled. It's no contest.

 _But that's just boring, isn't it? How about we make this much more real? Let's have you touch yourself, Johnny boy, right here in front of him, and if you're good, I won't make you tell him what you thought about._ John hesitates, looks everywhere but into Sherlock's eyes, and Moriarty sighs angrily.

 _Don't be shy now, my dear. Tick tock, tick tock._

John reaches for his belt.


End file.
